MICHAEL STOJKO HAILS FROM Nottingham.
His father is third generation Ukrainian
and his mother is English, having been
born here. At the age of six, he was a hyperactive
child. His mother did not know what to
do with him. He had cousins who had danced
before and so she sent him to ballet school.
He began with ballet, but soon branched
out into modern and jazz. He began competing
in local festivals and then became a Junior
Associate and attended the White Lodge
Summer School. At age 11 he auditioned
for White Lodge and at age 16 he was admitted
to the Upper School.

His friends at primary school reacted
very badly to his dancing, making stereotypical
comments. They said terrible things to
him…

James Wilkie was born in Bath and is entirely
British. His father was in the armed forces.
When James was two, the family moved to
Cyprus, then Germany and briefly to Northern
Ireland, before returning to England when
James was seven. Shortly after watching a
feature on ballet in the children’s
television programme, Blue Peter, James
went to a dancing school and loved it.
Year by year, he took on tap, modern and
jazz. His friends at primary school reacted
very badly to his dancing, making stereotypical
comments. They said terrible things to
him, which he repeated quietly to a teacher.
To his horror, the school principal made
a formal announcement at the school assembly.
“You are doing something beyond
their limited view of life,” muses
James. “At age 11, I wanted to be
on the international stage and by age
19 I already had a job.”

Ludovic Ondiviela is half-French and half-Spanish.
He comes from Perpignan in the south of
France, beside the Mediterranean Sea and
close to the Spanish border. As a child
he did not take dancing lessons, but by
the age of 11 he was a keen ice-skater.
He saw a programme on television about
the Paris Opera School and decided to
audition. One month later, he was a student
in Paris. He had previously attended a
small ordinary school in Perpignan and
he had only studied ice-skating before.
He found himself very homesick in Paris.
At the age of 13 he transferred to another
ballet school in Marseilles, which was
much closer to home. He stayed in Marseilles
until the age of 15, when he gained a
prize in the 2001 Prix de Lausanne and
won a scholarship to the Royal Ballet
School.

James was not a Junior Associate, but
he attended the White Lodge Summer School.
By this time, the family was living in
Salisbury. At the age of 11 he was admitted
to White Lodge as a full-time student.
He would remain there for five years. James
recalls some horror stories at White Lodge.
It was like any boarding school and he
was quite homesick. You have to deal with
that yourself. You either dwell on the
bad times, and become bitter and twisted,
or you remember the good times. Although
James experienced both, he remembers his
last two years at White Lodge as brilliant
times, particularly performing in the
seasons at Holland Park. James graduated
into the Upper School, one of four boys
in his year to progress all the way through
White Lodge. 11 boys joined the Upper
School from outside, including dancers
from Japan, Russia and Holland. They had
experienced different systems of training
and were very different from the White
Lodgers. As with any school, however,
it is up to the individual student to
decide what they take away from their
training and education.

At times,
he would be on the phone, screaming at
his parents about having to go to bed
early or having too much homework.

Michael found White Lodge a great place
to learn and train; a focus for his hyperactive
energies. Some students approaching their
final degrees don’t know what they
want to do, but Michael knew exactly what
he wanted to do at the age of 11. At the
time he found White Lodge rather isolated
and lonely; now he relives the wonderful
setting in Richmond Park and decides that
the sacrifices were worth it. At times,
he would be on the phone, screaming at
his parents about having to go to bed
early or having too much homework. His
family were in the north of England and
none of them had a relationship with the
arts. His parents were impressed by the
spectacle of White Lodge, whereas other
students from an artistic lineage felt
“entitled to be featured and starred.” Michael went the whole way through the
Royal Ballet School with Dame Merle Park
as Principal. He had an “easy ride”
at White Lodge. He was in every performance,
including Matthew Hart’s ballets Simple Symphony and Peter and the Wolf.
He was always working. It was not fair
for all students; but if you are suited
to roles and can do them, then they keep
on coming.

Michael was 11 years old when he danced
in Simple Symphony at the Royal Ballet
School matinee. It was nice to work with
Matthew Hart. It was also great to appear
in a proper venue, in the beautiful surroundings
of the Royal Opera House. He was very
excited about using the trap door. A year
later Michael danced in Christopher Wheeldon’s Schubertiad, a very classical piece. Christopher
Wheeldon came especially from New York
to create the ballet and the students
missed a lot of lessons for two weeks.
The following year, Michael created the
role of Peter in Peter and the Wolf.

Assessments took place in February;
Michael and James recall that then the casting
took place for the school’s summer
shows. They also appeared with the Royal
Ballet, Michael in The Nutcracker and
James in Anastasia.

Michael began at White Lodge as one of
13 boys, but finished with only five in the
final year at age 15, of whom only four graduated
into the Upper School. (“They were
a bad year”, interjects James.)
Michael confirms this. Three boys were
expelled, one was assessed out. They make
it so hard; they throw you out after two
or three years; it is very distressing.
Then in the 4th year, another boy left,
because he felt his general education
was more important, and two more boys
were assessed out. Britt Tajet-Foxell,
the occupational psychologist of the company,
was brought in to assess them all. She
told Dame Merle Park that they were just
normal boys. It happened to be a year
that did not gel.

Only three boys progressed into the Upper
School with Michael, but suddenly there
were 30 boys, from elsewhere, having come
through the vocational schools or even
trained in private lessons. You have no
freedom at White Lodge; subject to a curfew;
then suddenly you are in the Upper School
in the middle of London. It is an amazing
city, you have money in your pocket and
you want to have fun. Some go off the
rails, but the Upper School can educate
you for life.

Who were Michael’s fellow students?
Rupert Pennefather was assessed out of
White Lodge, but came back into the Upper
School. Other colleagues included Alexander
Whitley (now with the Rambert Dance Company),
Iain Mackay (now a Principal of the Birmingham
Royal Ballet), Helen Crawford, Gemma Sykes
and two former Royal Ballet dancers, Natalie
Decorte and Naomi Reynolds.

He was the only boy at
the school, in a class with 29 girls so he received lots of attention, private
classes and coaching for the Prix de Lausanne.

Ludovic has been listening to these experiences
at White Lodge. “I lived with the
same things at the Paris Opera School
– that’s why I left.”
At the age of 11, ballet meant happiness
for Ludovic; he could not act as if has
was already 25 years old. In Marseilles,
he attended the Studio Ballet Colette
Armand – she, the mother of Patrick
Armand, erstwhile Principal of English
National Ballet. He was the only boy at
the school, in a class with 29 girls so he received lots of attention, private
classes and coaching for the Prix de Lausanne.
The Paris Opera School was a good school,
but, had he stayed in Paris, he would
not have done so well. He was happy in
Marseilles.

He also had to undertake normal school
studies, mainly through private coaching
on a one to one basis. He was dancing all day
and went to school in the evenings. He
sat exams at the age of 14. “I could
not have lived like you in White Lodge,”
he says, “I was homesick; I needed
to be close to my family.” At the
age of 16, he took the scholarship to
the Upper School and was placed in a class
of boys. For the first time he could compare
himself with colleagues. He really enjoyed
the two years. He was in a new country,
learning English. He joined the company
in 2003.

James recalls his first principal at the
Royal Ballet School, Dame Merle Park.
She was a grande dame. When she passed
us in the corridor, the boys bowed and
girls curtsied. We all had great respect
for her. She was more of a figurehead,
although she did coach us in our last
year. Gailene Stock changed the style
of the school. It is difficult to pinpoint
the differences. The school is a bit more
relaxed now; no more bowing and curtseying.

Whilst at White Lodge, Anatole Grigoriev
provided great opportunities for James’
career. He put James in La Vivandière.
In the first year in the Upper School,
Japanese dancers arrived, turning multiple
pirouettes. James was still struggling
with two and falling over. In his second
year at the Upper School, Claude Bessy
of the Paris Opera School arranged a two-week
exchange. James went to Paris and encountered
different styles and different techniques.
Experiences like this open you up as a
dancer. Gailene encouraged her students
to take a lot of exams. Although it was
optional, she said it was a good thing
to do. James won a bronze medal in the
Adeline Genée awards. Then he went to
a summer school in Tokyo with Lauren Cuthbertson
(followed by ten days’ holiday in
Japan). In Tokyo they were dancing in front
of an audience of strangers, rather than
mums and dads. In his third year at the
Upper School, James went on tour to Germany
and the United States. On the last evening
of the tour, James was offered a contract
with the Royal Ballet. He joined the company
the day he got off the plane.

Ludovic did not encounter assessments
in France. When he returned to Marseilles,
he started taking part as a soloist in
competitions. When he arrived at the Royal
Ballet School, he was plunged into assessments
and competition for the casting in the
end-of-year shows. There were now 12 boys,
not just me. Still he muses, “Dancing
is dancing.”
Ludovic is aware that there are so many
dancers in the Royal Ballet with such
different training. You work together
all the time and cross-fertilise ideas
and technique. You watch a colleague and
think, “I like the way he does it.”
Then you try it.
Michael agrees that you learn from others.
If you watch the company at class, particularly
at the barre, you can pick out the White
Lodge graduates. They hold their head,
their arms and legs in a particular way
for arabesque. The dancers are constantly
educated and pushed musically. They have
Cuban teachers, Russian teachers. Then
there is Betty Anderton. She gives a wonderful,
“dancy” class, which gets
you moving and makes you feel like a dancer.
Irrespective of their training, the dancers
always retain their individuality, because
that is who they are.

Michael joined the company at the age
of 17 and achieved his seventh year with
the company in January 2004; James joined
the company at the age of 19 and reached
his fourth year in February 2004; Ludovic
is only in his second year.

What is it like to be a male member of
the corps de ballet?

Ludovic tells us that, after four years
of dancing at the top in schools, you
are at risk of standing on stage without
much dancing. He joined the company in
September and was fortunate enough to
be selected by Wayne McGregor in October
to dance in Qualia, with a solo allotted
to him as well. Then he was selected for
Christopher Wheeldon’s new ballet
and started rehearsals. Unfortunately
the ballet did not materialise, because
Christopher Wheeldon was taken ill. After
that, the new work dried up and he found
himself suddenly only standing on stage.

You have done all that
work at school and then you do next to
nothing in the company. There is a danger
that you lose your confidence.

James tells us that the girls are trained
up to be one of 32 swans in Swan Lake.
They dance every night in Swan Lake or
Cinderella or Giselle. There is no direct
male equivalent. You may be trooping on
and off stage in the Act III polonaise,
or carrying a trumpet! This gives you
limited stage experience. The beggar boys
in Manon, however, are technically demanding,
with a lot of acting. In the early days
it is difficult to make your place on
the stage; you can wait for three years
or so, before the solos come along. In
Giselle, the boys are finished by the
end of Act I. You have done all that
work at school and then you do next to
nothing in the company. There is a danger
that you lose your confidence. At school
you dance all the leading parts and you
know you can do them. You don’t
get so nervous. When they finally give
you something in the company, after so
long, it is a big deal. If your confidence
is low, you think, “Can I do it?”
James had done very little, when suddenly
he was cast as one of the Act I boys
in Onegin and then as one of the three
officers in Anastasia Act I. I had done
nothing in the previous months; it was
killing!

Michael tells us that there are cliques
of dancers who perform specific roles.
The smaller dancers perform the Neapolitan
Dance in Swan Lake or the three officers
in the first act of Anastasia. When Michael
first joined the company, there were dancers
in this category like Ricardo Cervera,
Hubert Essakow, Jonathan Howells and Justin
Meissner. The height criterion appears
to have moved now. In his early days with
the company, the beggar boys in Manon were taller, dancers like Rupert Pennefather
and Bennet Gartside. Now smaller boys
are cast as the beggars.

Timing is so important. People who fly
in the dance world are thrown on at the
last minute and can run with it. Alina
Cojocaru is an example. She danced the
centre girl in Ashton’s Symphonic
Variations with two days’ rehearsal
and danced Juliet with a short rehearsal
period. Suddenly the audience love you
and the management are impressed.

It is more difficult as a guy, particularly
if you are “vertically challenged.”
Taller guys are seen as more versatile.
Michael (who is 5 foot 6 inches) had danced
in Ashley Page’s Fearful Symmetries with Christina Arestis (who is about 6
foot 4 inches!!). “You jump around
like a lunatic until you break; then you
have to shoulder lift a tall girl!”
Tim Matiakis had been the same height
as Michael, with a similar style of technique.
Michael had covered Tim in a multiplicity
of parts for two years. “Tim came
into the company from nowhere and he was
then cast ahead of me, time after time.”

James covers the Neapolitan Dance in Swan
Lake Act III. You wonder how many years
you will be the cover. Should you push
someone down the stairs? You have to maintain
your fitness. You take class and then
you stand around for three hours as a
trumpeter. In the school system, there
is motivation; in the company, you have
to act professionally. If you doubt yourself,
you give a bad class.

Ludovic tells us that for some people
dancing is just a job. If you care, however,
then you are motivated. How does Ludovic
deal with the pressures? “Socialise
with friends,” he says.

James tells us that the corps de ballet
life is up and down. In his first year,
he began to rot away; his brain went to
nothing. Last year, he studied for a teaching
course, which kept him going. He now has
a teacher’s qualification. He wants
to keep dancing, but he also wants to
keep learning. Now he is taking anatomy
classes.

Wayne pushed Ludovic a lot,
particular as he was not used to the contemporary
style.

Ludovic reflects on the opportunity which
Wayne McGregor’s Qualia afforded
him. This was new choreography; no-one
could compare him with the old dancers.
He loved working with Wayne McGregor,
who introduced him to a different way
of moving. At the outset, he thought he
would never be able to do this kind of
movement. He really enjoyed performing
the ballet, even though it was stressful.
He had been playing a footman in Onegin and suddenly he was in the centre of the
stage by himself. It was not a classical
ballet. He looked free, even if he didn’t
feel free. If it goes wrong, it is easier
to make it look better. Some days Wayne
McGregor got a bit annoyed with a dancer;
they were not always working hard enough
for Wayne. Wayne pushed Ludovic a lot,
particular as he was not used to the contemporary
style. He pushed Ludovic to extremes.
It was physically very hard and he was
not used to it. After rehearsals, he just
had a bath and went to sleep.

Ludovic also created the leading role
alongside Bethany Keating in a new ballet
by Alastair Marriott, Being and Having
Been, produced as part of the Inspired
by Diaghilev season in the Linbury Theatre.
They had begun rehearsing just before
Christmas, although the performances were
not until the end of the London season.
It was a good chance for Ludovic and it
showed that he could partner.

Michael dances the Jester in Cinderella.
“I own the role, as if it is part
of me.” It is an out-of-body experience,
amazing! When you finish it, you don’t
feel like you’ve been there. It
went well, but you feel out of it. Then
you take a call in front of the curtain
(“a red runner”) and you realise
that the applause is purely for you. The
audience has really enjoyed it. Michael
could have resigned after his first Jester;
for the first time he felt prepared and
ready to go on stage. You can take the
character of the Jester, whichever way
you want! He had first performed the role
without a stage call, only studio rehearsals.
He was petrified.

Michael also dances the beggar chief in
Manon. He finds it a challenge. “All
those right turns and I am a left turner!”
You have to react to all the stage business
and you cannot be over the top!

Michael continues. “You want to
dance featured roles and then, out of
the blue, you are cast. You think, ‘Can
I do it?’ As you take on these roles,
you grow more confident as a dancer and
as a person. Being in the corps de ballet
is hard for a boy. Opportunities come
along rarely. You feel so alone at times.
Everyone else is exhausted, rehearsing,
running around. So often you are despondent.
If you are left alone too long, you find
you cannot cope with things. Then an amazing
role comes along and suddenly the penny
drops.

You need a good friend to coach you. Christopher
Carr, the Senior Ballet Master, is running
around like crazy the whole time, putting
on the whole ballet. Alexander Agadzhanov
and Lesley Collier are coaching the Principals.
Sometime you are lucky enough to get them
for some coaching, but rarely. If someone
suddenly pushes you, it can be hard.”

A member tells our guests that we love
seeing them on stage. We are waiting for
them to get a part. We are 100% behind
them.

Michael talks about working on fringe
performances in the Clore Studio. It is
great, but we are working in our free
time. You work all day until 6.30 p.m.
on company rehearsals. Then you rehearse
for the Clore from 7 p.m. to 9.30 p.m.
You go home exhausted and you may have
an early stage call the following morning.
At least the ballets for the Linbury Theatre
are scheduled into the company timetable.
During the rehearsal period for the Inspired
by Diaghilev season at the Linbury Theatre,
Michael had worked shocking times. He
was covering roles in three ballets and
he had worked four-hour stints without
a break.

Ludovic found rehearsing for Inspired
by Diaghilev an amazing experience, very
exciting. So different from a long, boring
call for a mainstream work!

Michael harks back to the Dance Bites
tours around the provinces, which the
Royal Ballet undertook before the closure
of the Royal Opera House. In the corps
de ballet, we would like these tours to
be a mainstream part of the company work,
with all the dancers going on a mini-tour.
Everyone got to dance solos and pas de
deux; ordinarily it can take six or seven years
in the company, until you get the chance
to dance them. Under the Dance Bites regime,
everyone got the chance to dance a pas
de deux or appear in a Cathy Marston ballet,
for example.

Who are the heroes of our guests?

James names Bruce Sansom without hesitation.
He saw him dance a lot and aspires to
dance like him. You can learn different
things from so many dancers, extracting
a little bit out of everybody. You learn
from watching ballerinas as well. Miyako
Yoshida and Bruce Sansom together were
perfect.

Ludovic cites Leanne Benjamin first. She
is fantastic; he loves watching her. He
also lists Miyako Yoshida, Carlos Acosta
(amazing technique!), Alina Cojocaru (inspirational!)
and Laura Morera. He finds Laura dynamic
and incredible, an amazing actress. When
he was younger, Ludovic liked different
dancers. Then technique was everything
for him. Slowly you realise that there
is more to dancing, in Romeo and Juliet
for example. Then you are touched by different
people.

Michael names Alessandra Ferri. He used
to watch the video of her as Juliet and
she was an inspiration. She has an amazing
face, legs and feet. He was awed by her
as a child. As an adult, his perception
changed, when he saw her in performance
with the Royal Ballet. She had aged, she
sweated in rehearsal, she was not perfect.
Like a movie star, however, she was still
incredible and amazing in performance,
such a childish outlook for the young
Juliet. Michael finds Miyako Yoshida in
Ashton’s Scènes de Ballet inspirational;
her performance is clipped, perfect, beautiful
and flawless. He also reflects on Leanne
Benjamin in MacMillan’s Gloria.
With her long limbs she is exceptional;
sometimes you are scared watching her. (“It is the X factor”, interjects
James.)

What were their most embarrassing moments
on stage?

James had just joined the company and
was placed in the first cast of peasants
for Giselle. He was thrilled. They were
all dancing in a bloc and performed a
double tour. Suddenly he blacked out,
rolled on the floor and hit Giselle’s
house. When he came to, he couldn’t
walk. It was his most cringing moment.

When Ludovic was still at the school,
he joined the company on tour. He was
dancing in the ballroom scene of Romeo
and Juliet and he was really nervous.
Usually the dancers have zips to close
their boots, but Ludovic had an old pair
with laces and hooks, laces on the left
and hooks on the right. Somehow he had
fastened them incorrectly. When the music
started, he just couldn’t move.
He was partnering Sian Murphy, who fell
about laughing.

On the same tour, he was dancing a peasant
in the first act of Swan Lake. He had
to run in, grab a girl, spin her round
and rush off. Unfortunately he fell down
on his bottom right at the front of stage
and took Lauren Cuthbertson with him.
Everyone else laughed.

Just before Michael joined the Company,
he was dancing in Romeo and Juliet at
the Royal Festival Hall. He was playing
Tybalt’s aide in Act II, with Ashley
Page as Tybalt. Monica came into the changing
room and told them not to be too vicious.
Michael was trying to be all aggressive
and the other dancers responded, when
the fight started. He lost his hat, leather
jerkin, belt and boots. He was left only
in tights and a frilly shirt. Everyone
else was rocking with laughter.